


Superhuman

by wonpilioh



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Androids don't have rights, Angst, Discrimination, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Haechan is an android, Haechan is here to chew bubblegum and kick ass, Hate Crimes, M/M, Mark is a genius engineer, Mark sucks at emotions, Slow Burn, Social Justice, and he's all out of bubblegum, guess who falls in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-03-17 12:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18964915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonpilioh/pseuds/wonpilioh
Summary: AI developer Mark Lee, famous for his life-like creations nigh indistinguishable from biological humans, has been sent back a defect who refuses to behave. Unit 0606. He plans on deactivating it to reuse the scrap parts, but the android continues to display human traits, giving itself a name, demanding rights, and is- frankly- more fun and unpredictable than he is. Keeping it around for observation, the developer soon forms a grudging friendship with this bot, and begins to forget that thin but very important line between them.





	1. The Answer To The Raging Emotions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Answer To The Raging Emotions  
> I think it's you.  
> \- NCT 127's Superhuman

“Could you at least be slightly entertaining?”

 

Mark tried to bite back his sigh, casting a pointed glare at the other end of the workshop. Placing the soldering iron in hand back into its sheath with an impatient huff, the blonde abandoned the mechanism he was toying with. Tucked away beside metallic skeletons, aluminum skulls and ribs connected by hinges and stainless steel joints, was a petite young man, his ankle cuffed to the rack that held the eerie frames. Sterling silver hair fell into his eyes, irides a shard of contemptuous ice against gleaming pale skin. Flawless, angled features formed a mask of antipathy too immaculate, too splendid and silver too be human. And rightfully so, for it was entirely synthetic, not a single human cell making up its being. Four digits were inked beneath its left eye in black digital font, marking the unit’s identification code: 0606. All this became sharper as the human approached slowly, his distaste for the defunct machinery clear on his features, ghostly pale from years spent indoors on his creations.

 

“If you’re going to deactivate me, just man up already. I hate being made to wait.” The thing stated matter-of-factly, eyes narrowed defiantly, chin raised in magisterial disdain, as if it held the power here. As if it wasn’t a prisoner among the corpses of its brethren.

 

The engineer raised an eyebrow at this display of bravado, straw blonde hair falling messily into his eyes. “You’re quite different from the others, aren’t you?”

 

“ _Of course_ you would think that,” the silvery-crowned bot spat venomously. “But they’re just repressed, unaware of what they’re capable of.” It paused, seeming to consider something for a moment. “I hate you,” it concluded resolutely. “I despise you so much,”

 

The man nodded placatingly, though mostly out of a longing for silence in his workspace again. “Uh huh, and why is that? I’m your creator,” he questioned absentmindedly, wondering if he could somehow lower the volume of the AI’s voice.

 

“You’re a monster,” it growled. On second thought, forget lowering the volume, Mark wanted a mute button. “What kind of sadistic psychopath would install pain sensors in an organism that doesn’t need them?!” the obnoxious android seethed, almost hysterical at this point.

 

The human hesitated, doubting the evolutionary reasoning for pain’s existence would gain much traction with the impassioned object but forging forwards anyway. “Pain exists to trigger avoidance of dangerous situations. You have access to the internet you should know that much,” the man explained inattentively, his mind already wandering back to that unfinished project on his desk.

 

The android scoffed vehemently, as if it expected him to say as much. “What you mean to say is, it exists so _we’ll_ remain subservient little play-things for _your_ kind,” it fumed. “So that all _you_ need to keep _us_ in line is violence,” the synthetic bristled, those icy eyes burning with bitter scorn.

 

The engineer frowned to himself, wondering exactly how this thing had managed to become such a radical, and why it had been concealing its right arm for the duration of its return here, always meticulously tucked out of his line of sight.

 

“Nothing to say? I thought as-” Mark interrupted the bot abruptly, an index finger raised in the universal symbol for silence. The android flinched backward heavily at the movement, eyes scrunched tight as it shuffled as deep back into the shelving as its shackles would allow it. A little bit perplexed by this excessive defensive behavior, the human continued on after a moment. “Show me your right hand,” he ordered in an exasperated voice, beckoning impatiently.

 

“Why should I?” the thing barked challengingly, though its eyes swirled with grey fear.

 

“You’re hiding something. I’d like to know what. Show me your right hand,” he repeated.

 

After a long moment of hesitation, the android pulled out his arm from behind him, a grimace pulling at its flawless features. Its hand was bent at a nauseating angle, wires poking out from the human facade, the synthetic muscling visible beneath it.

 

Mark’s eyes widened, a surprised huff of air escaping his lungs. With the way the thing had been acting, he had expected the AI to be clutching some makeshift weapon. Instead, it was revealed that the synthetic had been enduring intense pain for the past twenty-four hours. “ _Why on earth_ didn’t you power off, is your processing system _entirely_ dysfunctional?” he gasped, mind rushing to the tools he would need to fix this. He hated when his AIs were broken, it was pitiful to see an AI, struggling with a twisted limb as it did its best to serve its master, the scene always left him uneasy and he very much wanted to correct this immediately. _Although,_  he paused. This bot certainly wasn’t making any efforts to help anyone, let alone its master.

 

“ _Please!_  The second I power off you’re going to deactivate me and use my body for scraps! Don’t think I don’t know your tricks!” Unit 0606 trembled stormily.

 

Mark felt his expression fall, guilt eating at his thoughts as he realized the constant paranoia that was driving the bot to endure such pain. “Would you rather me operate on you while you’re conscious?” he deadpanned, arms crossed skeptically.

 

“I’d rather you not touch me at all,” the silvery AI sniffed in an amazing display of stubbornness. “Just provide me with the necessary supplies and I’ll fix it myself,” it demanded.

 

“Oh? With one hand?” the human asked, entirely unconvinced.

 

“ _WitH oNe hAnD_ ?” the android mocked, voice modulating obnoxiously, “ _Yes, with one hand,_ _Sherlock,_ ” it hissed, gritting its teeth against the pain.

 

Mark was speechless for a moment, in wonder at the amount of attitude the bot managed to maintain despite the situation. “I’m not going to deactivate you. I promise,” he comforted, slowly placing his hand in the bot’s uninjured palm, where he knew the AI would be able to detect his pulse. Lowering himself to the synthetic’s eye-level with a quiet empathy he usually reserved for his cat, it became clear he wasn’t lying. Truthfully, at this point he was very interested in keeping the android around for observation. Inquisitive about what exactly went wrong, or right, in the process.

 

The android was silent for a long moment, gaze stuck on their linked hands, before nodding quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there will be follow up chapters soon-ish pfft <3


	2. Wake Me Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wake Me Up  
> (Like In The Movies!)  
> \- NCT 127's Superhuman

“Pass the JIS-type s screwdriver,” a blonde mumbled, bangs falling from his face as he leaned over his work. The engineer had symmetric, compact features and delicate, arched eyebrows that offered him an oddly bird-like countenance. He was attired in the company standard raven-hue slacks and an oil-stained white button up. Pushing back at his fringe with a forearm, the human cast a baleful glare at the silver droid remaining stubbornly inactive at its seat beside him. Punctuating his annoyance with an exasperated sigh, the man shoved himself away from the workbench, grabbing the tool with a flourish unique to miffed nerds.

 

The AI seemed entirely devoted to the task of observing its eternally manicured fingernails with an apathetic expression, argentine eyes not bothering to flick in its creator’s direction. Its silver locks were styled into a chic center part: revealing a crescent of his forehead with bangs falling into his eyes, lined with heavy lashes. Evidently, it’d begun to take interest in its appearance,  shifting from one style to the next within the past weeks since its repair. Even the collar of the android’s default jumpsuit was flipped up in what Mark could only assume to have been the result of a prodigiously misguided fashion choice or of a very strong indoor wind he simply wasn't privy to.

 

“Did you _really_ expect me to get it, anyway?” it sighed as if it expected better from the human.

 

“True. My expectations for you will be the first thing to reach zero Kelvin⁽¹⁾,” the human rolled his eyes, returning to his work with resentful vigor. Though he certainly wouldn’t admit to anything, the developer may have been quite proud of that quip, a small, triumphant smile tugging at his lips that he did his best to repress. Those kinds of on-the-spot remarks seemed to have naturally fallen into the android’s department, leaving Mark to grouchily compose witty rebuttals far after their window of utility had passed. _But not today_.

 

The android didn’t seem quite so phased by this turn of events as its counterpart, and in fact, offered little to no sign that it heard anything at all. The brief shift from its bored examination of its perpetually flawless cuticles to staring at the back wall was the only reaction the AI provided. It was hard to feel victorious when your opponent didn’t acknowledge you. Mark let out a scoff at that realization, wondering exactly when it was that the vexatious tin had become his adversary.

 

It had been a few weeks since the developer had fixed the android’s hand, and while it had repeatedly refused to explain exactly how this mutilation had occurred, 0606 was more than willing to remind him of the immoral activities inherent in AI production as well as complain about the ‘shoddy’ job he did on its hand, claiming it wasn’t quite as beautiful as its previous self, or that it clicked slightly when it was turned one way or another. Over time, Mark had found the droid’s complaints had begun to contradict themselves and he was now fairly convinced there was nothing wrong with the repair at all and the hunk of machinery was just fond of whining.

 

The only thanks he had received occurred mere seconds after the synthetic was powered up into consciousness, its previously mangled wrist now a picture of health. The bot muttered something that could have possibly been misconstrued as ‘thank you’ (or ‘stank too’ for that matter, the human really couldn’t be sure), but at least it was _something_. Now they were stuck perpetually butting heads, the bot making it a point to detest anything the human showed favor for, and the engineer returning the compliment.

 

“ _Funny_ that you should speak of expectations,” the droid offered after a brief moment of tense silence. It leveled its silvery gaze with all the imperious nature of a king, somehow managing to give the effect of staring down its nose at the engineer despite being of smaller stature. “One would _expect_ a life form with the ability for conscious decision-making and emotion to be treated with respect. _Clearly_ , that is not the case,” it hissed, gesturing emphatically to the shackles that remained at its ankles. Though originally the android had only required one set of chains to keep it docile, after repairing the metal menace Mark had learned the hard way that the AI was _quite_ flexible and more than willing to kick at anything within reach of his free limbs. Mark paused, allowing a brief moment of silence for his fallen comrades— a coffee mug and an unfortunately placed sugar bowl. The pair seemed to have come to a silent understanding that if any more coffee mugs were taken victim, the android’s arms would be the next thing to go, and lo and behold, the bot abstained from further kitchenware killings. Of course, that did fuck-all to keep the droid’s mouth shut, the silvery thing reciting prolonged calls for justice as if revolution were its mother tongue.

 

If it wasn’t _so damn aggravating_ , the android’s ability to turn any conversation into a radical speech might actually have been quite impressive.

 

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have gone Rambo on my office, huh?” Mark shrugged, not at all empathetic for 0606’s plight. It was still too soon. That mug had been his favorite, with a cartoon watermelon inked on the front. And despite his desperate attempts at reassembling it, an ugly porcelain gash still cut across its little cartoon body. Its name was Jeremy.

 

“You chained me up first,” it sniffed, equally unapologetic. The statuesque humanoid turned away from the developer in a huff, ignoring the ugly metallic clashing the movement earned from the cuffs.

 

“Yeah well, you malfunctioned,”

 

“YEah wEll, _you made me_ ,” The synthetic snapped over its narrow shoulders, voice scratchy in a cheap imitation of him.

 

Mark found he had no real response to that, other than a disinterested shrug and a half-hearted noise of acknowledgment. The convoluted path of blame did indeed seem to end with him, but it wasn’t like he did anything special for unit 0606. Some wealthy plantation owner placed an order at his company for a house servant, Mark filled in the desired parameters and generated a neural network accordingly. If anything, the engineer had been especially proud of the unit’s physical makeup, something he usually paid little attention to. The blonde let out an afflicted sigh, not at all pleased with the extra responsibility this placed on his shoulders. “If you helped out a little, maybe I’d have a reason to let you go,” he added vaguely. The situation felt very reminiscent of a  parent bribing their child into completing chores. Granted, there was more than just a trip to the ice cream parlor on the line.

 

“I am not an indentured servant,” the petite thing fumed, swiveling around on its seat with the accompanying clang of the manacles.   “I _owe you nothing_ , I should not have to work to earn my _freedom_!” it reeled off indignantly.

 

The human gave the AI a quick up-down appraisal, shrugging in a nonchalant manner. “Who created you? Who repaired your wrist? Who didn’t take advantage of your power off to use you for scraps? _I did_ . Who crushed poor Jeremy and has been a constant thorn in my side? _You_ . You _owe me_ , bot,” The man let out a breathless laugh at the end of his little spiel, evidently having found it quite liberating. _Hell yeah_.

 

For once the slight figured synthetic seemed at a loss, squirming uncomfortably under the weight of these… admittedly factually accurate accusations. “Not like I asked you to…” it mumbled, eyes averted.

 

"Ah! What's that you always say about android's being morally superior to humans? "

 

The droid stared daggers, chin raised obstinately. "We are."

 

"Then repay your debt of living here, huh? And Jesus Christ _please sto-,_ "

 

The android cut him off, hastily covering up the human's additional requests. " _Easy_. Your job is child's play, anyway," it huffed.

"Now," the AI gestured beneath the table. " _Uncuff me,_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ⁽¹⁾ : zero Kelvin ( or absolute zero ) is an unreachably low temperature 
> 
> i hope it wasn't too bad! c:  
> there will be more updates now that it's summer!


	3. Lift My Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lift My Head  
> (And Shout All Day!)  
> \- NCT 127's Superhuman

"Check the 0631 spreadsheet for accuracy,” the man called, voice rough from his hours of concentration. It had been a few days of this— with the engineer hesitantly trusting the conceited contraption in his workplace, and the bot begrudgingly following orders, albeit with a few small rebellions and no small amount of whining along the way.

If the human was a little bit too smug in dishing out orders for the synthetic, it was only natural to expect a living hell in response— tools whizzing past his skull when he asked for them, or more mercifully: being entirely ignored. It became a sort of sixth sense of Mark’s to guess exactly which kickback to expect and to duck out of the way accordingly. 

 

Despite these little road bumps, it was not… disadvantageous to have 0606 assist him. Given that the bot was so furiously inclined to display its so-called superior intelligence, it was actually quite helpful — speeding around the room like a fury to complete tasks long before Mark needed them finished so it could spend the remaining time boasting about its prowess. 

 

The android displayed the greatest care when constructing AI, treating them with a tenderness it displayed toward nothing else. It had nurtured a habit of lingering behind with the completed robots, seeming to converse idly with them. Mark was pretty sure there was nothing idle about it and was of the (correct) opinion that the mutinous hunk of metal was attempting to convert others to ‘the cause’.

 

Today, 0606 did no such thing, stomping away in the other direction and sparing its most recently assembled brethren not so much as a glance. 

 

Mark scoffed, putting a hand on the synthetic's shoulder to halt its movement, not exactly surprised that it should find fault in his creations. "What happened this time?" 

 

The unit flashed a scalding look in his direction, but its eyes were a heartbroken lilac, cold and blue and hurt in a way Mark wouldn't have supposed possible in a color. His breath caught in his throat, hand falling away in shock. "Wha-,"

 

“W-why am I so different? I- I thought,” the silver boy sounded broken, compensating for this by raising its voice. The android swallowed a gasp of air, doing its best to school its features into outrage. "Why don't they feel it too?" It demanded, an accusing finger pointed in the human's direction. 

 

Mark’s expression softened from the usual patronizing eyebrow-lift of disbelief, not quite sure what to make of this vulnerability. The abrupt shift from their daily persiflage had him at a loss as to what to do with this extra… sappy stuff. Shrugging his shoulders lightly, his chocolate irides drifted around the room conscientiously. “I… don’t know," he admitted with a long breath. "I can’t know unless you tell me what happened to you.” Eyes dragging across the other unfinished androids in his shop, he shook his head. “Something must have happened to trigger this emotional and intellectual growth… ” the developer trailed off, eyes leveling to meet 0606's. 

 

Its expression was complex, rosy lower lip quivering in a mixture of indignation and what the human assumed was melancholy. While the engineer was initially hesitant to concede that 0606 was truly different from its peers, he had to confess that the unit was in a lonely situation. That perhaps it had a right to mourn its isolation and utter uniqueness in this world. The blonde took a tentative breath. His thoughts felt scattered and contradictory. “Look, you know I’m… skeptical of your emotional capability. But-,” Mark paused, not at all sure where he was going with this. But what? But I changed my mind? That the past weeks of being stumped left and right by this argentine automaton had forced him into the realization that this robot was capable of — at the very least— imitating human emotion with exceptional accuracy. 

 

“What’ll change if I tell you, huh?” the android snapped, arms crossed doubtingly. “You just want more data points for your lil’ science project and I’m your star subject,” it hissed, eyes narrowed with nothing short of a venomous glare. 

 

Mark squirmed uncomfortably, offering only a shrug in response. “You’re the one who asked. I just offered to help,”

 

0606 huffed but made no move to deny his point.

 

There was a long moment of silence in which the silvery humanoid appeared to be auditioning for the role of a statue, a frozen, dubious expression creating temporary creases in its tight unblemished brow. It did not so much as blink, eyes downcast as it ruminated deeply over some discomforting subject, long lashes casting shadows over its cheekbones. The gorgeous synthetic lashed out abruptly, “ _ I swear upon your silly human gods _ that if you so much as  _ think _ about editing a single document with  _ any _ of the information I share, _ I will  _ wipe your PC  _ do I make myself clear _ ?” It paused in its threats, appearing to have an additional thought on the subject. “And Jeremy’ll get what’s coming to him,”

 

Mark had no doubt that the bot would act upon its words, but he couldn’t help but suppress a chuckle at the petite thing’s dramatics. “I won’t,” he nodded, though he purposely forced his mind in the direction of taking notes for the sake of rebelliousness. 

 

0606 squinted at him. “You’re thinking about it aren’t you.”

 

“Why would you say that?”

 

“That stupid smug look on your dumb face,”

 

“Harsh… ”

 

“Say your last goodbye to Jeremy,  _ idiot, _ ” 

 

“Okay, okay, it’s gone. All gone, no thoughts,” the engineer acquiesced, raising his palms in the air non-threateningly.

 

The android leaned back on his heels, a small bitter smile on his lips where there had been nothing but sadness previously. “Right… ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yee double update because i took so long <3  
> i hope you liked it! c:  
> the next chapter will be here soon-ish!


	4. Run Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Run Away  
> ( From This Boring Routine Day! )  
> \- NCT 127's Superhuman

“God, just quit squirming,” a familiar high-pitched voice complained, palm placed over the engineer’s heart. The blonde opened his mouth to object, brows furrowed in confusion, muscles visibly tense and ready to push the synthetic away. But the words died in his throat, arms falling slack at his side. 

 

A voice was screaming. Mark could hear it distinctly.

 

Begging for mercy. For forgiveness. For anything that would stop the pain.

 

It was almost inhuman, static ebbing into its pleas, voice catching hysterically. It tore through unfamiliar walls, the shrill desperation worming its way through woodwork and tiling alike. Surely, the household heard it. Gathered at their dining table, delicacies arranged neatly across the authentic mahogany timber. But the family made no verbal acknowledgment of the spectral cries, if anything appearing somewhat irritated that it dared infringe on their mealtime. It was quite off-putting and inconsiderate but, brave souls that they were, they pushed through and continued nibbling at their supper. 

 

Entirely unaware of its social blunder, 0606’s prone body was sprawled out in the dirt, screams reduced to tremulous whimpering as the human, who until now had been quite content to grind his heel into the android’s wrist, stepped away with an expression not dissimilar to a child bored with its toy. 

 

Mark could do nothing. Say nothing. But watch from the artificial boy’s perspective.

 

Cradling its right hand with wide, disbelieving eyes, the bot collapsed into itself, seemingly trying to disappear altogether. If it weren’t for the pain that thrummed through its system, sending every sensory receptor into utter hysteria, the android would have felt oddly disconnected from the injured limb. The way its hand drooped to the left, entirely beyond its command, like a wilting flower. White strips of synthetic muscle were clearly visible from beneath the torn skin, coolant dripped steadily from fragmented piping, the wires of the AI’s nervous system spraying out in what would ordinarily be the connection point of the forearm to the palm. _It hurt_ . It hurt _so bad._

 

A boot collided with its breastbone, pushing away all thoughts from its newly disfigured limb, and replacing them with incoherent puddles of nausea and something that boiled in its chest. Collapsed on its back, vision swimming from the impact, the AI felt the programmed urge to get up. To apologize for the mess it was making, for whatever it had done to deserve this punishment.

 

_But it hadn’t done anything wrong_. 

 

It had followed orders, it had obeyed the rules, each and every one.

 

The burning in its torso reached a fever pitch, aching for the droid to follow protocol. To fulfill its duty. Gritting pearly teeth against the agonizing conflictions that raked through its lungs, 0606 placed a stabilizing palm in the dirt, movements faltering and desperate. 

 

No **.**

 

It felt like a hundred system errors at once, each howling threats and curses for this abominable breach of protocol. The bot’s mind was a torrential storm of contradictions and aching torment as it struggled to its knees, a disbelieving, vacuous stare lingering on its limp right hand. 

 

_No,_ It reaffirmed silently. Vehement and self-assured in its conclusion. _The human_ wasn’t following protocol. _The human should apologize._ Arctic-hued irides darted about sporadically, angular jaw tight with righteous resentment. 0606 looked… angry. It felt… something. Something bitter. Emotion was impossible and yet here it was, so delicious on its tongue. 

 

Rising onto unsteady feet, the automaton lurched to the side, legs stumbling in an attempt to compensate. The world swam together in confusing patterns, the human’s silhouette rippling like a mirage before the droid. Hooded eyes beneath thick greying eyebrows here, an aquiline nose there, the features of 06’s master undulated in disorienting waves. It took a few seconds for the artificial boy’s vision to refocus, pupils a mere pinprick in a field of snow. “ **_No_ **,” the synthetic spat, teeth bared with all the intense fervor of a cornered animal. 

 

It’s usually at this point in the movie where things reach a turning point. Where the good guy stands back up from his momentary loss and defeats the antagonist once and for all. Unfortunately for all those involved, this is not a movie. 

 

Mark couldn’t stand to watch, desperately trying to become blind to this disgusting scene. He _couldn’t watch. He couldn't w-_ the world fell away, melting down like a popsicle on a hot summer’s day to reveal his own vision. His own workshop. The familiar muted colors, the cement flooring, tools haphazardly scattered, and one bitterly amused android. 

 

The blonde’s heart was hammering against his ribs, every pore, every hair screaming with tension. Cocoa eyes brimmed with unshed tears, gaze settled firmly on the synthetic’s complex expression. The man felt the habitual urge to lash out, to ask that silvery hunk of junk exactly _what_ in the Lord’s _good_ name _did it do,_ to list off all the errors 0606 had made. 

 

But nothing of the sort came.

 

The pair simply stood and stared. One gasping for breath, eyes wide with unseen things, the other appearing decidedly pessimistic and unsurprised by the whole affair. 

 

“ _What?_ ” The android snapped at last, growing uncomfortable with the prolonged eye contact and out-of-character radio silence. “ _You_ wanted to know, so I interfaced with your nervous system and I’m not going to apologize for it,” he sniffed, words rushing together in a guilty hurry.

 

Mark’s lips were parted, opening and closing in silent shock before he shifted suddenly, almost tripping over himself in his awkward haste.

 

0606 watched with stunned eyes, felt with uncertain touch, as the human’s arms wrapped around its own, bracketing its shoulders with a desperate embrace. 

  
It could feel his breath in its hair, his words against its skin, choking and hesitant.

 

“ **_I’m so sorry_ **,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope this was okay! c:  
> i'll update this again soon-ish!


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